fledgling

I  could not even make out the sign of the camp I was approaching. My warm breath rose and misted my eye-gear, as I heaved my way up the terrain. It reminded me of the dew-kissed, rusted window by the old fireplace, casting its soft light on the soot-streaked wall. The smell of fresh, crackling firewood and nutmeg. The crisp, cold sheets brushing against my skin as I tuck into bed with a warm bowl of my favourite memories. Another bone-chilling plume swept me from the short-lived warmth back to reality. Here I was, braving one of nature’s most feared sides, trying hard to keep my human warmth intact while the unimaginable cold continues to wage a war against me. My hourly GPS readings scares yet soothes, gazing at the tiny dot I see in a vast sea of white nothingness.  Now, it’s just me and nature, a one-on-one conversation these heights are witnessing for the first time. With every trudge and heave I realise, that this is the journey of my life and the hardest test my body and mind wi

This year crashed on me like colourful confetti, like a breath of fresh air I was exhausted, yet happy and satisfied But the sheen slowly wore off, and the designs Of fate made themselves known. This year found new ways to break my heart. I was battered by the whirlwind of pain, Grief, that this year happily presented to me. I mourned the loss of a loved one; of a relationship I had Long outgrown; and if that wasn’t enough, My body and soul were tired of fighting viruses, toxic people, uncomfortable glances This year also saw me rise up against every Wave. Every injustice. I gathered meaning in courage, to stand up for  Myself, and every hurt soul. I fought against In a cacophonous world as this, I was Trying to make an identity for myself Figure out who I was, who I wanted to be. I tried to find where I fit in this magnificent puzzle, Or rather not fit. Inspired by Twenty Nineteen by Lang Leav